for Chicory flowers,
Queen Anne's Lace,
and a silent, waning
full-moon.
They were all
just right there,
at my side
and straight ahead.
Honest ignorance
about something said
but not known.
That is all my
words can be when
I bring up the
beauty I see.
For I have not
written
these things into being;
I have only written
their written-ness
into verse. Very
different.
The handiwork
that is written into all
creation comes from
a far more gifted hand;
a more robust tongue
crafts and gilds those
words. Mine is the
pleasure to simply
point to them and say,
"ah, such glory."
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